The Unmentionable HairyWig
by Ngagagar
Summary: Omnipairing Harry Potter Challenge. You know the pairing, we all suspected it, well you probably didn't, but you should have. Harry Hedwig.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter, the book, series, movie, song or poem.

I do not own any of the characters from "Harry Potter".

Sorry if I insult any Harry Potter fans.

**The Unmentionable ****Hairy Wig**

**Chapter One**

"I'll meet you at midnight" Harry whispered to his snow white owl as he disengaged the Daily Prophet from her scaly leg "I have a very special letter to be delivered"

The owl just looked at her owner with wide owl eyes, head tilted to the side and snatched a piece of toast off Harry's food laden breakfast plate.

"I wish you wouldn't let Hedwig eat off your plate" Hermione patiently sighed "she eats wild mice, sits in her own faeces and probably has all sorts of fleas and bird lice. Have you seen the state of the owlery, it's not exactly hygienic".

"Let him feed his bloody owl if he wants" grumped Ron with a mouth full of food as he himself flicked his own owl, Pig, a bit of bacon. Hermione shuddered.

"Fine, infest yourselves with bird diseases, I won't stop you" Hermione snapped "I'm going to the library" and she was off in the all to familiar huff.

"What's wrong with her" Harry asked Ron as they watched Hermione dodge a flying sausage followed by scrambled eggs.

"I don't know" Ron shrugged and continued to eat.

"Well I'm off too, Quiditch practice, don't be late Ron" and Harry followed Hermione's footsteps out into the entrance hall, then he headed out of the castle towards the Quiditch pitch leaving Ron to gourge himself on food like he did every morning at breakfast.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Harry had a good Quiditch practice, he managed to catch and be a snitch. Ron was only ten minutes late.

While Harry was flying on his broom he imagined himself as an owl, as Hedwig, souring through the sky with a letter in his beak, snatching at small birds mid flight for a snack. With a small bird of course being the snitch and all the Quiditch players as other delivery owls going there own way to deliver letters of love, hope, anger, information, despair or threat.

Harry had always wondered at the magnificent creatures that all the wizarding community relies upon to promptly deliver the mail. They trust these owls with there private thoughts and messages, but they never stop to consider the life the owl must lead. How would they feel to have to go out no matter the weather or time of day and fly high among the clouds in the coldest parts of the atmosphere to deliver letters?

Letters they didn't understand and didn't care what they said, squiggles of ink on paper has no worth to an owl, especially when they are never allowed to know what they say. They deliver the mail without ever getting the opportunity to read any of it, no the witch or wizard snatch it away as soon as the owl arrives, with no consideration for the creature that so selflessly delivered it to them.

How would you like to be given letters but never be allowed to open them? The wizarding community never think of this. The owls risk there lives everyday for there frivolous messages. There is the risk from larger owls or other birds, the risk of capture, of power poles, of getting lost, Rain, lightening storms, even closed windows.

Harry felt he understood the owls, that's why he was glad he had no parents to send letters to. All he made Hedwig do was sometimes deliver the newspaper or the occasional letter to Hagrid, Sirius, Remus or the Weasles.

After Quiditch Harry felt great. It was Hogsmead day so he, Ron and Hermione got to fatten themselves with sweets and butter beer; Harry got a new quill made with a clean white feather and a pot of ink that made words sparkle. While he was in Hogsmead he even managed to buy a new box of owl treats for Hedwig.

Harry was happy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

That night at ten to twelve Harry quite as a mouse snuck out of bed, through the deserted common room and out the snoring portrait of the Fat Lady. He knew his way through Hogwarts like he knew the scar on his forehead. He didn't need the map he always took, he only took it to look out for other night walkers. But he knew he wouldn't see anyone. Harry had made these specific footsteps dozens of times; he was headed the same way as usual, to the Owlery.

As he approached the base of the spiral stair case leading to his destination he paused for one last check of the map and to listen. He liked to listen for the first hints of the hundreds of occupant owls just up those stairs. It was quite tonight, Harry couldn't even hear one hoot echo down. He knew most of the owls would be out hunting this time, it was a excellent night for hunting, cool and clear, but Harry knew one owl he could count on being up there; Hedwig.

As he placed his feet on each consecutive step he felt his heart beat a little faster as the sounds and smells of the Owlery began to reach him. Harry was in turmoil, he wanted to run up those stairs as fast as his legs would allow him, but at the same time he wanted to savour the anticipation. If he ran he might scare some of the owls away, but if he walked to slow he would have less time to spend in the Owlery.

He compromised, he allowed himself to run ten steps but then tiptoe the last five. He had reached the door. A quick look down the stair case and he opened it.

There, he could see the rows of perch's, some occupied most not. And then he saw her. Hedwig. On the very last perch right next to the window, her snowy feathers glistening in the moon light. Harry paused to regain his breath. He knew she would never fly away from him.

Three more steps to go.

He put his shaking right foot on the first shit covered step. Fresh bird excrement squelched between the toes of his bare feet, the stench invaded his nostrils making him chock and gag a little. It was all part of the environment for Harry and he savoured it every time.

As he made his way to the other side of the Owlery to wards Hedwig owls came and left. Harry hoped more were arriving then leaving, it added something when all those other owls were watching with there big round and rustling feathers as they snapped at each other and the food they had just caught and brought back to eat.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry if you wanted to hear about what happened with the owl, but its just too disgusting for me to even allow myself to imagine.

**Chapter Four**

Next Morning...

When Harry awoke the next morning Ron and the other people who sleep in his room had already gone down to breakfast. Harry had over slept; he couldn't really blame himself, he had spent much of the night up in the owlery. Harry always paid for these night-time excursions in the morning. But even though it was Saturday there was no time to reminiscing, Harry had a morning Quiditch practice. The eagerly awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was in just two short weeks, Gryffindor had to win or suffer endless taunts from all the Slytherins (especially Drako), and so all spare moments were to be filled with practice.

Harry ran down to the Great Hall where breakfast was waiting for him, only pausing once to watch an owl, letter attached, dive past a window.

Harry was just taking his seat when the daily, but exquisitely beautiful, morning routine was beginning; the owls were arriving with the post. The enchanted ceiling was obscured as the feathered swarm descended on the breakfast diners. Forks and food went flying into the air, pumpkin juice spilt, squeals of fright, groans of aggravation, and sighs of resignation echoed around the hall as the owls landed on the tables; not everyone was pleased to have there breakfast interrupted by a bird and were even less impressed when that bird had an inaccurate landing, but Harry was. He swivelled his head this way and that as he watched the magnificent owls flying about searching for there ungrateful owners. There was no better place for it, there was no where on Earth that you could see such a range and abundance of owls all at one time, in one place and flying around together, it was heaven. Barn Owls, Eagle Owls, Masked Owls, Tawny Owls, Horned Owls, Sooty Owls, Square Eyed Orange Tailed Owls, Screech Owls, Scops Owls, Hawk Owls, Pygmy Owls, all but the most endangered were present. Then he spotted her...

Hedwig. His very own beloved owl. Her wings spread wide; she glided gracefully towards the mesmerised Harry. She landed with perfection, flicking Ron in the face with her wing as usual. Her dignified head tilted slightly to the side, she scanned Harry's plate for her breakfast. The snow-white face and large mysterious eyes giving no hint of the nights events.

"You're not going to let her eat off your plate again, are you?" Hermione shattered the trance Harry was in.

"Huh..."

"Bloody hell. We're not going to have this argument again are we, let Harry do what he wants, it's _his_ Owl and _his_ breakfast" Ron interrupted as he snatched a letter from his 'Mom' off his own owl.

"Fine, I won't start an argument, I have things to do anyway" and she left in her usual huff without even glancing back at her startled and confused friends.

"Right. There is defiantly something wrong there." Ron mumbled chewed his last sausage "lets go Harry, we're already late for Quiditch"

"WHAT?!?!" Harry sprayed his pulverised food all over the table "I've hardly sat down, how can we already be late"

Ron chuckled "You slept in and then spent so long searching for Hedwig that you forgot to eat, you've been sitting here for at least half an hour. That must have been one important letter you were expecting"

"Huh? Oh yeah, it was. That's why I was looking for Hedwig, to get the letter"

The two of them headed off to Quiditch practise, both late this time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Despite the toll Harry's late night escapades were obviously taking, Harry couldn't stop himself returning to the owlery that very same night. Being late for Quiditch was no deterrent, not even the angry ranting of Snape upon discovering Harry's neglect to do any of his homework wasn't enough to even give Harry a second thought about the consequences of a consecutive late night.

So, around the usual time Harry snuck out of bed, through the portrait door, through corridor after endless corridor until he was once again at the bottom of the steps to the Owlery. Tonight Harry was anticipating that the Owlery would be full as it was lightly raining outside. He could already imagine all the perches being filled with squabbling owls, the air thick with squaks, hoots, clicks, feathers and the ever-present smell of shit. With so many owls in the smell would be extra potent, the floor extra slimy as more birds contribute to the mess. But along with all these sounds, smells and tastes that are always present in the owlery, there would be an extra layer, another dimension, added to the familiar atmosphere, not only would everything be more potent, there would be the smell of the rain drifting in through the many owl openings and the new added smell of the few owls that are brave enough to take a quick excursion into the rain drenched outside world. Harry loved it when it rained, it made him feel like the owlery was the only place in the world and that he was the only person in the world among all these owls.

As Harry made his excited way up the hard stone steps he became slightly aware of something being amiss. Something wasn't entirely right but Harry couldn't quite think what was wrong. It wasn't something tangible that was wrong, everything around him looked and smelled the same, as he walked up the stairs he could even hear the birds so he kept walking. He got the top of the stairs and was so lost in his own thought about what he thought might be wrong that he opened the door and took two steps into the Owlery without being fully aware of his surroundings. Then it hit him, at the exact same moment as "Hey" a startled voice cried. Harry had realised what was wrong at that exact moment, the owls had been too loud, he could hear them far too early, he should have known that it meant someone was in the owlery disturbing them. Both Harry and the intruder froze. It was too dark for either of them to indentify the other.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Harry said as he stepped forward to see who the intruder was, Harry froze again as a shard of ice pierced his lung, it was Ron. He silently cursed himself for forgetting to make sure all his dorm-mates were asleep in bed, but he had been in too much of a hurry.

"Er, nothing" Ron guiltily mumbled "What are you doing here?"

Harry had to think fast "I'm posting a letter"

"Yea, so am I" Ron said more cheerfully as he revealed the letter he had in his hand hidden behind his back.

"But why are you posting it in the middle of the night?"

"I...er...I didn't want anyone to know I was posting it" Ron shyly told his feet, but then he suddenly looked suspiciously at Harry "Wait a minute, if your posting a letter too, then where is it?"

Oh shit, Harry thought as he looked at his empty hands "I...er...um...mu-must have forgotten it, yea, I left it in our dorm, how daft of me" and he quickly turned to go. He could feel Ron's suspicious eyes burning the back of his head as he left the Owlery. Harry tried not to think about Ron as he made his unsatisfied way back to bed; there was not much chance that Ron would believe Harry had gone to the Owlery to deliver a letter in the middle of the night without even remembering to bring the oh-so important letter. Harry knew that Ron would suspect something was up; the only hope was he would never guess exactly what.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Over the next two weeks Ron never mentioned the encounter with Harry in the Owlery, life went on as usual; Harry crept up to the Owlery most nights, Hermione stormed off almost as often and Ron stayed strangely silent.

That is, until one morning, it was at breakfast and the owls had just delivered the post, including a large box for Ron. Normally when Ron, Harry or Hermione received a letter or package they shared it with each other, but this time Ron grabbed the box, tucked it under his arm and ran off to his dorm at an alarming speed.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked

"I don't know, maybe it has something to do with that letter"

"What letter?" Hermione snapped back

"er...er...no letter...I was thinking of something else"

"No you weren't, has Ron sent a letter lately? That is strange"

"Ok, I saw him post a letter about two weeks ago, it seemed pretty important to him...so don't ask him about it"

"I wasn't going to, Ron is entitled to his privacy, but it must have been something really important if it prompted Ron to actually _write_ a letter _himself_, last time he wrote a letter to his Mum he made me write it"

"Well, we better get to class or we'll be late"

Harry's first class was Defence Against the Dark Arts, Ron was late. He sat next to Harry as usual; he looked pleased with himself and couldn't stop smiling. Even when he was screamed at for being late Ron just grinned back at the teacher as if he was receiving the greatest complement in the world.

Harry did want to know what was making his friend so happy; he was curious that's all. They were best friends so if Harry really wanted, he could just ask Ron. But, he doubted Ron would answer, it didn't seem like something he wanted to share with Harry, or he would have already. Besides, if Harry did ask, it might remind Ron about the night he sent the letter, how Harry was there. That 

would of course lead to Ron questioning Harry in return. Perhaps a trade of secrets? No, definitely not, Harry knew whatever Ron's secret was, it couldn't be half as bad as Harrys.

So Harry kept his mouth shut. Ron's stupid smiling face did annoy him for the rest of the day, but Harry just had to live with it. Besides he had the first challenge of the triwizard tournament to prepare for.

He had found out a few days ago from Hagrid that the first challenge would involve dragons, and had already blabbed to Diggory. He liked Diggory, he liked his ruggedness, he even liked Diggory's owl. Diggory's owl was a sooty white nose called Peanut. Peanut had the sweetest little face and a stumpy tail.

Harry still hadn't decided how to defeat the dragon. Creepy Moody had said something about his broom to him the other day, but Harry hadn't really been listening, an owl was playing just outside the window at the time. So Harry was still trying to figure out how to beat a dragon, he was busy most days in the library looking up dragons. Harry thought that if he knew a lot about dragons he would be able to figure out how to beat them; but so far it had just convinced him that he was going to die.

The day Ron got his mystery package was in fact one week before the day Harry was expecting to die. Although he was annoyed with Ron he didn't have time to give it too much thought, he had to get back to the library and figure out the secret of the dragon.

The next day (6 days to D-day) Harry was back in the library, he was starting to loose hope of ever finding a way to even survive the dragon let alone beat or get past it. And what if it wasn't just one dragon that he had to beat, he had seen at least four when Hagrid showed him. Harry just wished he knew what he had to actually do with the dragon. But he couldn't find that out, he wasn't even meant to know about the dragons at all. Although, he wasn't really getting any advantage as he had told Diggory, he knew French people knew and he suspected German people would have found out somehow.

That day after breakfast he had Potions and then off to the library he went. But he was tired. Harry had stayed up late the night before reading books about dragons, he even tried a couple of spells that he thought might help, with no success. He slowly dragged the dragon books from the dusty shelves of the old library that Hermione seemed to spend so much of her time in. Harry couldn't 

understand it, why did she like the library so much when it was such a dark, dusty, depressing sort of place. The big book shelves jammed full of heavy tome's looming down on you. The tip toeing librarian hissing at you if you make to much noise. The smell of ink and ancient paper, it was all rather intoxicating, as if the library was purposely lulling you to sleep as you attempted to study or do your homework, as if the activity itself wasn't boring enough. But on this occasion the library really seemed to have it in for Harry.

He made his stack of books, somehow every single one was dusty, even the one he had just been reading the night before. He quietly dragged his feet and the books around the library looking for a desk to drop his collection onto. The only empty desk (one of the teachers had assigned rather tricky homework to be due that very afternoon) was in a particularly dark corner, with just flickering candles as a light source. Harry pulled the heavy chair out from under the desk and sat down in front of the large pile of books. As he opened the first one a big puff of dust erupted from it into his face making him sneeze, oh how Harry hated book dust. Harry started reading.

He didn't get far before the words on the page started to merge into squiggles and then large black smudges. It was a hot, sunny day outside; although the sun wasn't reaching him, the heat was, and with the extra heat and gentle flickering light from the candles it wasn't long before Harrys cheek was resting on the cool pages of the book, his eyes firmly closed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

As always Harry dreamed of owls; of soaring through the air atop his broom surrounded by them. Hundreds of owls, like a great swarming cloud fluttering around him as they all travelled together around the country side. Hedwig flying right next to him, whispering in his ear as they go. Harry occasionally catching bits of conversation that the other owls have with each other. The owls really were just like people to Harry. He imagined them talking about gossip, love stories, tragedies, what there owner had been up to and who they had been writing to, news, current events, and all the other things people talk about. It was Harrys favourite dream, flying high up in the clouds, looking down at the land, mountains, hills, lakes, rivers and seas. Travelling far away from Hogwart, far away from all civilisations where he could never be accepted if they knew the truth. Travelling somewhere that he could fully be himself with out holding back anything, no risk of being exposed. But this time the dream seemed somehow different, it started the same as always but it was different at the same time, the night was somehow darker, an electric sense of anticipation in the air. Harry was starting to feel scared. As it was a dream, he was dream scared; that kind of hyper- emotion you get when you are asleep dreaming, sometimes you even wake up still feeling that all consuming fear without actually remembering the dream, what it was about, or why you were scared. Harry was starting to feel that fear.

As he continued to fry he started to smell smoke, it was only a slight smell, but it was getting stronger as he flew. Then he saw it; a village far ahead in the middle of the English countryside on fire. Smoke making the still air thick and grey, screams of people as they race from there houses, great leaping flames clawing higher and higher into the sky like a hungry tiger reaching for its prey. Harry and his gang of owls flew low to investigate, there was something odd about this fire. It was strange how it had consumed the entire village so quickly, everyone was still trying to get out of there houses while the flames everywhere were equally as huge. It seemed just as intense everywhere, like it was all lit at the same time or within minutes, it had to have been as there was no wind to carry it, even if there were wind it wouldn't be able to spread a fire so far and so fast.

All of the sudden all the owls that had been with Harry darted away. They were flying as fast as they could away from Harry and the fire; they had seen something. Then Harry was it. At first just a glimmer of green, a tip of a wing. A dragon was launching itself at Harry as he hovered in the smoky air above the fire. Harry ducked and the dragon whipped past him in a green, fire breathing blur. Harry was fighting a dragon. They both took a sharp turn to face each other again, neither one giving the other right of way. They charged. There faces getting closer and closer as they raced toward each other. Moments away from collision...

"Harry, Harry wake up"

It was Hermione.

"Wh..what?"



"You were asleep and the librarian was just about to murder you, look you drooled all over your book and were starting to snore"

"I was not"

"You were, what are you doing in the library anyway? You don't have any assignments due"

"I'm researching dragons for the triwizard tournament, I have to fight one, remember"

"Harry, you still haven't decided how to beat the dragon?" Hermione cried "you haven't got long, and if you still don't have any idea what you're going to do then..."

"I do have an idea" Harry snapped

"Really, what is it?"

"Well, I just thought of it, I'm going to use my broom to get past it, I'm great on my broom, I could out manoeuvre a dragon no problem"

"oh, it good that you have an idea, Harry, but you still have to consider a lot of things. Like how are you going to get your broom, I don't think they'll let you just take whatever you like with you to fight the dragon, your only allowed you wand, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but I...er... could use my wand to get my broom... yea, that's what I'll do. Hermione what's that spell that makes stuff come to you?"

"_accio_ – whatever object you want"

"Can you teach me it?"

"Fine" Hermione sighed.

_Accio firebolt._ Harry spent all the rest of his free time (and some of his not free time) leading up to the first challenge practicing his spell (he had no time or energy to visit the owls). He got pretty good at it.

During the challenge he just imagined he was an owl evading the dragon and it all worked out pretty good. He now had a giant, screaming, gold egg.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Harry had no idea how to decode the stupid gold egg, if it had been an owl egg he felt sure he would have been able to figure out what it meant immediately. It wasn't an owl egg, but owls were all Harry could think about again.

Then Diggory told him how to figure out the egg and the dobby-thing got him some weed so he could breathe under water. So then Harry did the second challenge, but he screwed up of course. He was supposed to save Ron but he was so busy looking for his true loved one (Hedwig) that all the other people managed to save their people (except French girl). But Dumbledor loves Harry and so let him cheat and gave him points anyway, if anyone else had done what Harry did Dumbledor would just have said "too bad, maybe you shouldn't have been such a dumb-ass"

But then the author of this story got sick of writing this story, it was following the real story too much, it's really just a sort of summary of the real story with owl bits and made up reasons for the stuff that really happens. Besides none of the authors stories are very good, it always been "your telling, not showing", the author never really got what that even meant until recently when she read an example where something was 'told' and then the same thing 'shown'. And it's true, the author discovered that she does 'tell' instead of 'show'. It's kind of maddening that the author was always told by her teachers at school that she was 'telling, not showing' but none of them ever really bothered to explain what it means.

Well no one even reads this story (it's boring) so its ending now, I bet no one will even read _this._


End file.
